


Red

by Marie_Iliea



Series: Candid Shots [5]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Cutting, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Post-Star Trek: Into Darkness, Self-Harm, self-injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-28
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2019-03-25 01:18:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13823412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marie_Iliea/pseuds/Marie_Iliea
Summary: When he sees the final list of those killed by Marcus and Khan, Kirk breaks down - do his friends get to him in time?





	Red

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger Warning: Cutting

Were he anyone else, tears would have welled up behind his eyes, fallen down his face, pooled around him with the force of his grief.

So many dead.

His responsibility, his fault. He was alive, and they were not. It was too terrible a thing to bear.

He spun the knife around in his fingers, feeling the cool, smooth metal of the blade and the relative warmth of the wrapped handle. This part was new, the hesitation; there had never been so much to atone for all at once.

Running his hand over his bare thigh he quested for the perfect spot to begin —

— and drew the first line.

The blood flowing down his skin formed the pool on the tiles that his tears could not, staining the cold shower floor. He’d turn the sonics on later, remove the evidence, take his personal dermal regenerator to his wounds. No one would know.

Three cuts for every person he’d failed.

One to mark himself on their behalf.

One to punish himself for their loss.

One to punish himself again for finding relief in the pain.

He knew cutting wouldn’t change anything. More than anyone else, he knew it wouldn’t help in the long run. He knew he shouldn’t be doing it, that Starfleet would have a fit if they knew.

But he couldn’t stop. He’d carve their very names into his skin, but he knew there would never be enough room.

His vision blurred, his hand shaking as he marked each off.

Names he knew: Hendorff, Giotto.

Names he didn’t: Lucy O’Brien, K’Tash Va’gna.

Between the endless rows of appellations and monikers were other words, visible only to him.

Names from the past: Amanda Grayson.

Names he loved, had let down if not yet lost: Nyota, Bones, Scotty, Spock —

Spock. The sticky, red-streaked blade was torn from his grip and sent skittering across the tiles. Large, pale green hands with long fingers covered his naked thighs in a manner that would have been indecent were he not covered in his own blood. Dark eyes and dark hair wavered in front of him, lips moving with words he could not hear. The sanguine pool seemed more like a lake, spreading out to stain Spock’s knees where he knelt.

 _They’re not deep._ The First Officer’s eyebrows shot up as though the words had been spoken aloud. _I never cut very deep._

Another pair of knees sloshed into the mess, another pair of eyes widening at the sight of him. He watched as the new hands attached small metal strips to his hips and knees, the flickering light of a force-bandage sealing his wounds.

So many cuts.

He glanced over at the PADD lying by his side, its screen splashed with red. Through the congealing fluid, he could still see the name flashing at the bottom, the very last name on the list of those lost.

He’d gotten there. He’d finished. Three cuts for every person dead because of him.

There were thousands, and he bled for all of them.

He hadn’t needed to cut deeply, he realized as all the red faded to black. They could’ve been papercuts, and he’d still be lost.

There were just too many.

**Author's Note:**

> These don't have to all be read, or read in order, but please make an author happy and check out the whole series.


End file.
